


John's Adventure with the Blue Scarf

by nottoolateforthegame



Series: 31 Days of Porn 2017 [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drunk John, Fantasizing, M/M, Masturbation, Other, Wanking with a Scarf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 13:59:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12683337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nottoolateforthegame/pseuds/nottoolateforthegame
Summary: Prompted byAtlinMerrick’s31 Days of Porn Challenge. This is #3-Unusual Sex Toys





	1. Cover for John's Adventure with the Blue Scarf

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by [ AtlinMerrick’s ](http://atlinmerrick.tumblr.com/post/159721211399/porn-challenge-2017-any-fandom-any-length-of) [ 31 Days of Porn Challenge ](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/31_Days_of_Porn_Challenge_2017). This is #3-Unusual Sex Toys


	2. Chapter 2

John stumbled in the door, feet refusing to cooperate with his desire to enter the flat. He hung his coat on the rack (somehow, it stayed) and staggered over to his chair. He pulled off his shoes, each one thunking loudly in the flat, before leaning back in his chair, body practically hanging off, legs sprawled, eyes drifting shut.

He was pleasantly tipsy after a night out with Lestrade. He hadn’t meant to drink quite so much or stay out quite so long (he did have a shift in the morning), but somehow one drink had led to another, and here he was, half pissed and not a care in the world. The only thing that would've made the night better was somehow convincing Sherlock to join them. But Sherlock had flatly refused, claiming he was researching for a cold case and couldn't afford to kill brain cells in a wasted attempt at male bonding through raised intoxication and lowered inhibitions.

John snorted at remembering the look of disdain that had graced Sherlock's face at the idea of a night at the pub. You would think John had suggested they streak naked through Hyde Park or something equally ridiculous. _Posh git._

John’s eyes cracked open enough to glare at Sherlock's chair. The man himself was out. John vaguely recalled something about a possible all nighter at the lab. John spotted a splash of blue on the back of the chair-Sherlock’s scarf.

Hmmm...John’s eyes opened a bit more, and with the kind of care only those who were drunk and aware if that fact could exhibit, he reached for the plush blue scarf.

As he pulled it close, he caught a whiff of Sherlock. The ever so slightly soapy fragrance of his unscented hair products and body wash (Sherlock's skin was sensitive to dyes and perfumes, what was more, scented products could trigger a migraine), the mildly musky smell John assumed was Sherlock's natural scent, the slightest salty tang of sweat...mmmmm…

John buried his nose in the silky soft material, practically rubbing his face against it like a cat. This scarf got to spend its days wrapped around the gorgeous neck of the most amazing man John had ever known. John had fantasized countless times about removing that scarf (and the rest of Sherlock's clothes). Christ-the things he wanted to do to that man!

John felt arousal burn low, his cock hardening in his pants at just the feel and smell of the material rubbing against his face. It felt absolutely delicious and depraved at the same time. What kind of person got hard sniffing his flatmate’s outerwear? John Watson, apparently.

John sat back with his prize, a filthy smirk settling on his lips as he decided to indulge, just a bit. Sherlock was out for the night, Mrs. Hudson was no doubt long since asleep...he could have a wank right here on his chair and no one would be any the wiser.

John unzipped his jeans and tugged the waistband of his pants down enough to free his hardening cock. He licked his palm and slid it against the tip, gathering precum before giving himself a few good tugs. Then he settled into a lazy rhythm as he sat back and thought about Sherlock.

He wanted to mark that neck. He wanted to suck bruises on it, high and dark, for all the world to see-Sherlock was _his_. He wanted to leave his face stubbly for a few days and rub all over Sherlock’s face and neck, teasing with pain and pleasure while leaving a trail of stubble burn that Sherlock couldn't hide without makeup. He wanted to bury his cock in Sherlock’s mouth and watch his throat stretch to accommodate it.

John groaned and picked up the pace, keeping his grip lighter than before.

He wanted to strip Sherlock naked and tie him down with one scarf and blindfold him with  another. He wanted to tease him and keep him on edge all night. Maybe he’d use another scarf to rub against the miles of pale skin, soft and silky and warm beneath John's touch.

Yes. The feel of the scarf against John's face was divine. No wonder Sherlock always had it with him. It must feel positively sinful against his delicate, sensitive skin. John imagined wrapping the cloth around Sherlock's cock and stroking him off with it.

Fuck. Yes.

Without thought, John slid the scarf down to his own lap, draping it over his cock and then wrapping his fist around it. He fucked up into his hand through the material and hissed in pleasure. Yes. That was perfect.

John began to fuck his fist in earnest, chasing his own orgasm as fantasy Sherlock moaned and begged and pleaded for release in his mind. His balls drew tight and his hips stuttered as he imagined bringing Sherlock over the edge, Sherlock crying out John's name as he climaxed.

“Fuck! Sherlock! Yes! Perfect, gorgeous, ah!”

John's release flooded the scarf, hot and wet and filthy feeling. He shivered in pleasure as his dick released another small spurt of semen. Finally, he settled back in his chair, dopey drunk grin across his face.

That had been spectacular. And now Sherlock's scarf would smell like _them_. A small voice at the back of his mind reminded John that it was a bit not good, but he was too satiated to care-he would deal with whatever it was in the morning.  He let himself drift off-he'd just rest a bit after all that. In a bit he would get up and go to bed. But for now, he was going to enjoy being boneless and buoyant, and take just a little nap in his chair. Just for a few minutes...that was...all...

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr!](http://nottoolateforthegame.tumblr.com/)


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